


The White Wolf and the Wildling Princess

by orphan_account



Category: game of thrones
Genre: Usual Got stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-24 11:01:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21337165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Starts at the Jon's betrayal, although this time round he has a certain Princess at his side.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Val, Others to be added
Comments: 9
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

Jon Snow

When he saw Olly burst into his chambers, young face flushed from walking so quickly in the cold outside, he knew something big had happened. The only other time Olly had burst into his chamber like that was when Wun Wun went out of control and nearly destroyed the Kings Tower. 

"Lord Commander!" his steward exclaimed, panting for breath. "It's one of the Wildlings you brought back, says he knows your uncle Benjen, says he's still alive."

Olly spoke quickly and it took less than a second for the words to truly register in Jon's head. He stood up, his chair scraping against the floor and he looked at his steward with the most serious expression he could muster. He didn't want any false hope.

"Are you sure he's talking about Benjen?" he asked, unable to keep the hope from his voice.

"Said he was First Ranger." Olly replied and Jon immediately moved, grabbing his gloves from the desk as he hastily strode out of his chamber.

"Says he knows where to find him." Olly added and Jon felt his breath quicken with hopeful anticipation. 

Jon strode from his room, trying his best not to run as fast as he could. He saw Aliser Thorne at the bottom of the steps that led to his chamber but didn't acknowledge his presence. As he stepped on the last step, Thorne turned and began to walk off. Jon followed. 

"Man said he saw your uncle at Hardhome, last full moon." Thorne said, glancing at Jon quickly as he finished.

"Could be lying." Jon replied, managing to hide his hope around Thorne. He couldn't show anything but the seriousness of a Lord Commander of the Night's Watch around Thorne.

"Could be." Thorne acceded. "There are ways to find out." Thorne added, again turning to face Jon, as if to make sure he was actually there. Jon ignored this weird new mannerism of Thorne's, eager to begin his questioning of the Wildling who claimed to have seen his uncle.

"Where is he?" Jon asked and then they fully turned a corner and he saw a group of Night's Watchmen huddling around someone.

"Over there." Thorne replied, but by then Jon knew.

He quickly pushed his way through the group of his men, recognising a few like Bowen Marsh and Othell Yarwyck. He didn't see anything, he was too busy trying not to get engulfed by the surge of hope he felt. Hardhome and the news of Stannis' defeat had made him lose a lot of hope but now things finally seemed to be changing. 

He staggered to a stop when he saw no Wildling, no returned uncle. Only a sign. A sign with one word painted onto it.

_Traitor_

He stared at it for a few moments, the word and its meaning finally clicking in his head. He turned, seeing Thorne's bitter face, about to ask for an explanation, when Thorne sank a dagger into his stomach. He grunted and was pushed back a bit by the force of the strike. He looked into Thorne's triumphant face and glanced down at the knife in his gut, wheezing from shock.

"For the Watch." Thorne said coolly, as if he had not just stabbed his Lord Commander, as if he had not just began something that Jon knew would end up with him dead and cold.

Thorne pulled the knife out of him, a splatter of blood following the blade, and Jon lurched forward, grasping onto Thorne's shoulder for a second until the man who had just stabbed him stepped back.

Then Bowen Marsh stabbed him, hissing "For the Watch." into his ear before quickly pulling the blade out and stepping away.

Jon turned quick enough to see the next of his betrayer's and looked Yarwyck in the eye as he too stabbed him.

"For the Watch." he murmured calmly, before pulling the blade from his gut and stepping away.

Jon faced the next man, whom he did not know the name of, as he too stabbed Jon, whispering "For the Watch" before steeping away from him. Another followed, angrily declaring "For the Watch."

Jon staggered on his feet, breathing heavily, looking each man of the circle of betrayers in the eye, seeing nothing but contempt, anger and triumph in their eyes. He fell onto his knees, clutching his bleeding belly, groaning an glancing at the snow on the ground.

He looked up to see the betrayers parting and Jon saw Olly, tears in his steward's eyes as the boy, no older than ten, advanced towards him with a blade in his had.

That hurt. That one betrayal hurt the most. The boy he had trained, who he had sparred with, the boy who he took under his wing, the boy who he treated as a younger brother.

He breathed heavily, it was getting harder to do that as he felt his life ebb away as his blood spilled out of his body. He looked at Olly's once warm black eyes and saw a sadness in them, a remorse. He also saw the cold determination forming in the lad's eyes, like they did when they fought with one another in the training yard.

He stared at the boy and managed to gasp a pain strickened "Olly?", all of his confusion, pain and hurt in the one word.

The boy's face was still for a moment and then twisted with anger and hatred. The knife plunged into his heart and Jon let out a cry of pain, shock, horror and betrayal as it dug deep into his chest. He had given Olly that knife. 

His steward quickly pulled it out and stepped back.

"For the Watch." he said, a declaration, filled with assuredness and devoid of remorse, regret or pain. 

Jon managed to hold on for a few more moments, staring into the boys hate filled face and then the life left him and Jon Snow fell onto his back, breathing his last gasps of shallow breath. Jon Snow was dead, the snow around him stained with his blood as his former brothers left him in the cold and reddening snow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is quickly discovered and Val goes to desperate measures to bring him back.

Val

She had been walking through the snow when the Direwolf suddenly howled. Jon Snow had allowed her to wander around Castle Black, so long she let his big wolf follow her, making sure she was safe from the leering gazes of the Queen's Men, Crows and most of the Free Folk. The unspoken words he had not said was that the wolf would make sure she did not try to escape.

That had been near a moon ago and in that time Val had found herself thinking about the young Lord Commander more and more. The boy was comely and filled with a solemnness no one his age had the right to bear. His dark indigo eyes were cold and warm. His skin paler than the moon and yet warmer than a roaring hearth. She could see the aura the Lord Commander exuded and felt drawn to it. 

But he was a mere boy who had little to no experience with the art of pleasing a woman. She preferred men who did. 

She pretended to ignore the fact that she was on a walk right now to try and freeze the warmth she felt in her from her dreams of the raven haired Lord Commander.

The wolf darted off and Val followed, drawing the small knife the Lord Commander had given her earlier that evening.

* * *

"I'm trusting you not to do something stupid with it." the Lord Commander said, his eyes boring into hers and a sternness on his face.

"Why?" she asked, thoroughly confused as to why the Lord Commander was giving her, his overglorfied hostage, a blade.

The Lord Commander sighed heavily and the stern façade faded into one of a weary, tired boy, who had too many responsibilities and too little sleep.

"Stannis Baratheon has been defeated by the Bolton's." he said, his voice as tired as his face. "They will undoubtedly be looking at Castle Black now because of me housing them for so long here."

Val had heard much about these Bolton's from snippets of information she gathered from her guards and the times she eavesdropped on the men as they ate. Nothing goo came from the Bolton name.

"You think they'll attack?" she asked, sheathing the knife and enjoying its albeit light weight. She had been weapon less for too long.

"Aye." the boy replied and his face shifted back into his stern façade.

"Can I trust you with that?" he asked, gesturing to the knife on her hip.

She shrugged and he glared at her. The two of them stared for one another and Val could see the desperation in the boys eyes.

"I promise not to cut off any man's balls unless they deserve it." she said and a small, rare smile curved on the boy commander's face.

"I expect nothing less."

* * *

The wolf turned a corner and it howled with pain and grief once more. Val followed it and saw a body surrounded by blood red snow, a cross with the word angrily declaring "_Traitor_" on it. 

She ran to the body, fearing who it was, trying to prepare herself for what she would see.

His eyes were open, though no longer did they have any trace of warmth in them. They stared, glazed and unmoving, at the midnight sky. His skin was paler, which had seemed impossible to her not so long ago, and was now just ice, whereas before it seemed like marble. The ground was stained with his blood.

The wolf howled and licked at its dead owners face furiously, as if its licks could bring back Jon Snow. 

A crowd was gathering. Free Folk with grief, for they respected the boy who had let them cross the Wall. There were Crows too, their faces shocked and fearful. 

It escalated quickly. Free Folk blamed Crow and Crow blamed Free Folk. Swords were drawn and sang as each side fought to avenge the dead man. Val knew better. The Free Folk were fighting the wrong Crows.

"Enough!" she cried, but the Free Folk and Crows had their blood running and for a moment she could see the unnecessary bloodshed before it had properly begun. Then a low, blood-thirsty drowned out the sounds of the clanging steel and everyone there, Val included, felt fear freeze them.

Jon Snow's Direwolf was at her side, its hackles raised and a furious snarl on its face, its red eyes calling for blood.

The Free Folk and Crows staggered away from one another and looked at the wolf with fear. 

"The wolf can smell the traitor's scent." she said, and the Free Folk and Crows looked here fearfully. She nodded at one the Free Folk she recognised, Svear was his name.

"Go to Tormund's camp and tell him we need every single warrior and spear wife here as soon as possible." she ordered and Svear nodded and ran off. He was a quick runner and Val knew that by dawn a angry, blood thirsty warband would be at the gates of Castle Black. 

She looked at the Crows and saw one she recognised, Edd. His eyes were filled with tears as he stared at Jon's cold body and Val couldn't find the strength to look at the dead Lord Commander.

"Edd." she said and the Crow looked at her with anger and grief.

"Take Jon to his chambers and lock yourself in there with the Crows you can trust, don't open it unless you hear me tell you its safe to leave." she ordered and he could see the resistance in the Crows eyes before he spoke.

"And why should I do that?" he asked, his voice angry and bitter.

"Because when the rest of the Free Folk arrive they'll want to kill every Crow in sight." she replied and the Crows quickly moved, gently lifted Jon Snow's body up from the red ground and walking away. Val forced herself not to look at the Lord Commander, knowing that she would feel nought but pain if she did so and that pain might distract her. She needed to be focused.

"What are gonna do then?" asked one of the Free Folk present. She pondered for a moment before nodding.

"We'll walk up anyone else still here and make sure the gates are open for when Tormund arrives." she said and the Free Folk hastened away, some to walk and gather the others, most went straight for the gate. Val stared at the bloodstained ground for a moment, then followed the group to that went to the gate, Jon Snow's wolf following, its snarl promising blood.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A battle begins at Castle Black and the spilled blood allows a powerful ritual to incur

Val

They reached the gates quickly and opened them. An hour passed. An hour of nervous eyes glancing south and north into Castle Black. A night where the cold didn't affect her. A night where she felt akin to Jon Snow's wolf, thirsty for revenge and ready to spill blood.

The Crows came two hours before dawn. Aliser Thorne led them, his black eyes triumphant and filled with hate. Ghost growled angrily and she knew that he was one of the men to betray Jon. Her Jon.

She drew the knife Jon gave her in one hand and in the other carried a dirk in the other. She cried her war cry, which mixed with Ghost's growl, and charged. Her Free Folk followed. 

It was a storms of swords and a whirlwind of blood. She stabbed with her knife and thrusted with her dirk and slit as many throats as she could find. Queen's Men watched from afar, their main priority protecting their queen and princess. Some Crows watched to, unwilling to enter the writhing mass of fighters. 

Ghost stalked the edges of the melee, darting in and out and targeting the ones who had betrayed his master. Val followed, eager to kill the ones who dared to betray the only southerner to ever give a damn about the lives of the Free Folk.

Stannis Baratheon had only wanted the Free Folk as meat in his army. Jon had wanted the Free Folk to live because he knew them, because he wanted them to live and avoid the fate of becoming a Wight in the army of the Dead.

So Val fought with the ferocity of a Shadow cat and relentlessness of a Wight in order to avenge the only southerner with a heart.

She ducked underneath a wild swing from one of the Crows and side stepped another's. Her dirk twisted in her hand and she lunged, sinking the dirk into the mans neck before swiftly pulling it out and ducking under yet another wild swing from the other Crow.

The Crow continued to advanced, trying desperately to get close to her. Why he would do that she had no idea, as he was the one with a sword and the advantage of reach. She let him get close and then stabbed him in the thigh with the dirk and then in the neck with the knife Jon had given her.

Both sides pushed back, gasping for breath and regaining their strength. Ghost was back at her side, muzzle stained with blood. Thorne was still alive, his sword was bloodied and he had a bloodied nose. 

Then the ground rumbled and a roaring could be heard in the distance. She smirked at Thorne who had a angry and horrified look on his face. 

Four thousand Free Folk and three giants thundered across the snowy ground, grief and a lust for vengeance in their hearts. They too loved Jon Snow, the man who had saved them form icy, cold deaths, and now they were here to avenge him. 

The Free Folk surrounded the Crows, the Queen's Men and the few Crows that didn't fight had hidden themselves and the fight left the Crows. Swords were dropped and chains brought out. She didn't know why but she ordered Tormund to put them in the ice cells. She would deliver vengeance on the morrow.

She then wandered Castle Black, Ghost abandoning her to go to his master's dead, cold body. She mustered her courage and strength and went to Snow's chambers.

He was laid atop a slab, someone had close his eyes. She tried to tell herself he was sleeping, that his eyelids would open and she would see those beautiful indigo eyes once more. Edd was there, as was Baratheon's supporter Davos. Ghost laid, resting at his master's heels, as if he too believe that Jon Snow would awaken once more.

Her hand briefly brushed against Jon Snow's face but she couldn't help but recoil at its coldness. Despite his demeanour, Val had never been able to see Jon Snow as cold.

She allowed a single tear to fall down her face and found herself facing the hearth where a small fire bravely danced against the cold and darkness.

_The Red Woman._

She turned to Davos and saw the old man's deafeated, tired face turn to face her in response.

"Bring the Red Woman here." she ordered and the man briefly raised a grey, bushy eyebrow before nodding and walking off. He was gone for a while and Val spent the time stroking Jon Snow's cold face. He looked peaceful and she prayed to all the Gods she could think of that he would forgive her for what he was about to do to him.

The Red Woman came in timidly, the powerful aura that had radiated off her had gone with the news of Stannis Baratheon's defeat, and her once pulsing ruby was dull and dead. The Red Woman stood next to Jon Snow, gently stroking his cheek and a look of sadness crossed her face.

"I tried to warn him." she said quietly and Val remained silent, pushing down her hatred towards the woman who burnt Mance and weirwood trees.

"Bring him back." Val said and the Red Woman turned to her with a delicate brow raised. "Bring him back to the living."

"I-" The Red Woman said but Val cut her off.

"Will." she said, her voice commanding and clear, despite the fact she was a raging storm within.

The Red Woman's lips curved slightly and she nodded slightly.

She light a roaring fire and began to undress Jon Snow and clean his bloodied body. Val pushed down her anger at the sight of his wounds and her jealousy she felt as the Red Woman's fingers danced across Jon Snow's cold body.

The Red Woman chanted whilst she did so and she continued to say the same thing like a prayer to her God, which it more than likely was.

_"Āeksiot Ōño, maghagon bisy arlī hen se ōños, maghagon zirȳla naejot nyke, leghagon zȳhon lungs lēda jelevre, zȳhon prūmia lēda ābrar, se ribazma lēda kȳvana bona kessa ūndegon īlva naejot ērinnon against se rōvēgrie tolie's kosh_" The Red Woman chanted, stepping away as she cut off some of Jon Snow's beautiful curls and tossed them to the flame.

The chanting reached a feverish pitch and finally she stopped and watched nervously, so did Val, so did Davos, so did Edd. 

Nothing happened. 

They waited and yet Jon Snow's body remained cold and unmoving. They waited five minutes. Then ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty until a whole hour went by and the sun was beginning to rise in the western horizon. Then they began to leave

Edd left first, his spirits thoroughly crushed at the thought he would never see Jon Snow again. Davos followed, sighing sadly and seeming far more older than he was earlier. Then the Red Woman left, her face sad and crushed. She paused at the doorway and looked at Jon Snow one more time before walking away.

Val waited two more minutes, desperately watching for any sign of life, before she kissed Jon Snow gently on the forehead and left, closing the door behind her.

Barely a moment later she heard a gasp for breath inside the room where she had just left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melisandre's prayer (I made it up because I don't know the actual one)  
Lord of Light, bring this one back from the light, bring him to me, fill his lungs with breath, his heart with life, and brain with plans that will see us to victory against the Great Other's champion.


End file.
